Daylen's elegant black car slid through the city streets as they left the hotel, and soon they were driving down a narrow driveway that led to a stately home.
The mansion towered over them, its turrets echoing the sound of a fortified castle from antiquity. Rows of gleaming cars and stern-faced bodyguards flanked the entrance, a testament to Daylen's wealth and power.
As they got out of the car, and Daylen inquired in a silky, low voice.
"Do you like it?"
Lucia's tone was dejected as she scanned the massive exterior with her eyes.
"It's not mine, no matter how beautiful it is."
Daylen's eyes glowed with a dominant intensity, and his demeanour took on an authoritative tone.
"That's not correct, you are the mistress of this place going forward."
Lucia's thoughts wandered for an instant, lost in thought at Daylen's sharp features, his penetrating stare, and the confident atmosphere that enveloped him.
It was understandable why, in spite of his vicious reputation, innumerable women yearned to be with him. After dismissing the idea, she glanced back and saw Daylen briskly making his way to the bedroom, his long strides engulfing the gap.
The sound of her tentative footsteps was muffled by the thick carpet as she followed him. She felt the luxurious furnishings of the room encroaching on her, causing her skin to itch. With a fluid grace that made Lucia's heart race, Daylen undressed on the bed and spread out his hands to reach for her, his fingers encircling her wrist in a soft vice, she felt a chill down her spine.
Her voice was almost a whisper as she swallowed hard. She stumbled, her voice scarcely heard over the beating in her chest,
"What are you doing?" Daylen pulled her closer, his words quiet and low, his eyes glinting with knowledge.
"Well, what do you think?"
Lucia felt her throat tighten as the question lingered in the air like an invitation. His laugh was like a gentle touch, making her spine tingle.
"I'm going to take a bath, would you like to join me?"
Lucia's mind raced at the ominous sweetness dripping from his words. Her blood ran cold at the prospect of what he was truly asking for.
Daylen's fingers squeezed her chin, causing her face to lift to look at him.
Lucia's eyes darted about frantically, trying to find a way out, but his hold was tight. She opened her mouth, letting the words fly out quickly.
"Wash first...please." Desperate to avoid the inevitable.
Daylen's smile hung in the air like a ghostly afterglow as he strolled into the washroom. But as soon as he left, the oppressive tension subsided, and Lucia experienced a sense of relief. Breathing deeply, she felt her lungs filling up with freedom.
But the respite was short-lived. Reality came crashing back, and Lucia's mind raced with the dire circumstances. This was their wedding night, and she knew what was expected.
Panic set in as she scrambled to find an escape route, her eyes darting around the room like a trapped animal. But she knew it was futile - Daylen's bodyguard lurked outside, waiting to pounce.
Her thoughts were driven by desperation until, out of nowhere, an idea sprang on her. With her heart thumping in her chest, Lucia took a hesitant step back as her gaze fell on the bed. One more step, then another, until she was almost at her breaking point. She took a deep breath before letting out a spine-tingling scream and gracefully collapsing to the ground.
Lucia lay there with her eyes clenched shut, hoping that her trick would be enough to save her from the expectations of the night. The silence that followed was unbearable.
*********************
The dawn light stung Lucia like a thousand daggers as her eyelids fluttered open the following day. Her eyes alighted on a foreign ceiling, and her mind began to reel over what had happened the night before.
She jolted and looked at the man next to her, and her heart sank. Daylen fixed his penetrating dark eyes on hers, holding onto hers like a vice.
Lucia squirmed to sit up, her voice quivering with sheer dread.
"How did I get to the bed?"
She tried to remember what had happened before this very moment, but her recollections were foggy and vague.
Daylen's voice was smooth and low, his expression a mask of anxiety.
"Are you hurt?"
Lucia was so focused on the man sitting next to her that she hardly noticed what he was saying. His only clothing was a pair of boxers, and Lucia's cheeks turned red when she saw his toned body.
She let out a gasp and pulled the blanket up to her chin, encircling herself in it like a shield. The cosy material provided only a weak shield against the anxiety that was threatening to overwhelm her. Lucia looked around the room frantically, trying to find a way out of this dangerous circumstance.
Daylen got out of bed and moved purposefully, his movements smooth, his actions focused on Lucia.
Her blush served as a light, indicating her shyness and purity. As he got closer, he could feel her discomfort; her eyes were darting all over like an animal stuck in a cage.
He encircled her waist with his arms, his fingertips caressing the plush blanket as he took a deep breath to smell her.
Her perfume was so wonderful that it made his senses go crazy. Lucia's body stiffened, but she didn't fight back as he drew her in close, his warm breath whispering around her neck.
"Are you satisfied?"
She shivered at the sound of his low, husky voice. Lucia's reply tumbled out in a panicked torrent of words, scarcely audible.
"Let me go, I don't know what you're talking about."
Daylen laughed, his breath dancing over her skin. His laugh was deep and throaty. He whispered, brushing her ear with his lips,
"There's no need to be shy."
Embarrassed, Lucia's body went numb and she was helpless against his grasp.
Daylen's teeth bit her shoulder with such delicate accuracy that it gave her a thrill.
Though the touch was light as a feather, it left Lucia gasping for air and craving more, her senses caught in a maelstrom of uncertainty and longing.
"Don't do that,"
Lucia cried as she managed to eventually shove him away. Lucia could still feel Daylen's lips warming her shoulder even after she left his hold.
Daylen stepped back, letting go of his grip and dropping his arms to his sides. Smelling the air, his gaze sharpened and his eyes contracted. The faint aroma of jasmine floated up, clinging to Lucia's skin like a hint of perfume.
Daylen's features softened and his countenance changed as the scent took hold.
Speaking in a low voice, Daylen said,
"I know you pretended to faint from a headache last night."
Lucia's heart raced at the accusation that lingered in the air. She was aware that the astute man in front of her had discovered her deceit and had revealed it. Her gaze darted about the room, looking for a way out or a diversion, but Daylen's stare bore into her very being.
Daylen clinched his jaw, slowly and deliberately crushing his teeth together. A trace of rage flashed in his eyes, but he forced himself to calm down. The cording of muscles in his neck demonstrated how hard he had to work to control himself.
His tone was steady and low, a careful blend of composure and restrained rage.
"You don't need to pretend to have a headache just to get away from me."
The air was heavy with unspoken words, the silence between them thick with tension. Lucia's eyes darted up, meeting Daylen's gaze for a fleeting moment before she looked away, her cheeks flushing with a mix of fear and guilt.
The atmosphere was charged, the quiet struggle between them palpable, as Daylen battled to keep his emotions in check.
Lucia's mind raced with a frantic scheme just as Daylen's hand grabbed for the restroom door doorknob. She begged, her voice tinged with hope,
"I don't have any clothes to wear, please can I run home to get some clothes?"
Knowing that this might be her only chance to get away, she hoped he would agree.
However, Daylen gave a sharp retort, sounding dismissive in his speech.
"There are clothes for you in the closet."
With him gone, and the bathroom door shut, leaving Lucia by herself in the sumptuous bedroom.
Lucia stepped toward the closet, its door whispering softly open as it did so. She was nervous. Her eyes widened in disbelief as she went inside. Size-wise, the closet surpassed the living room in her own house.
The closet's left side was a manly haven, with rows of well-fitting suits and ironed shirts hanging immaculately. But the right side, with its assortment of sophisticated gowns and shimmering outfits, was a woman's delight.
A frame drawer in the middle glinted with an amazing assortment of watches, some of which were limited edition and cost more than Lucia's monthly wage.
Lucia was astounded by the closet's size and opulence and was taken aback by the thought that she was imprisoned in a world that was very different from her own.
She was overcome by the grandeur around her as the door slid shut behind her, engulfing her in a gentle, fragrant darkness.
Lucia's attention strayed as she looked around the closet, taking in all of the extravagant surroundings. The extravagant display of wealth overwhelmed her, making her feel like a tiny boat adrift in a stormy sea.
She was struck with the stark reality that she was a mortal in a world of gods, and that Daylen was someone else entirely.
Her footsteps reverberated through the spacious room as she made her way to the ladies' section, serving as a constant reminder of the enormous disparity between her impoverished life and the lavish lifestyle of the Patrick's family.
The clothes rack appeared to go on forever, featuring an extravagant assortment of luxurious fabrics and designer labels in a rainbow of hues that made her own wardrobe appear worn-out and patchwork-like quilt.
Lucia felt her fingertips linger over the clothes, her touch tentative as she tried not to think about the question that was yet unsaid: for whom were these clothes intended?
She chose jeans and a basic t-shirt since she was utilitarian but also wanted to splurge on the opulent textiles that tempted her.
She was surprised by how well the clothes fit her as she put them on.
Her contours were wrapped by the soft cotton, and the legs were moulded to fit her legs like a second skin.
She briefly lost sight of the distance between her and Daylen's worlds as she revelled in the simple joy of dressing beautifully and feeling like a million dollars.
With her pulse pounding with excitement, Lucia cautiously emerged from the closet, her feet scarcely making a sound. Her gaze darted cautiously toward the main doors, searching the corridor beyond for any indication of the bodyguards who appeared to be hiding around every corner.
Confident that all was well, she threw open the doors and dashed along the hallway, her feet tapping the marble floor in a last-ditch attempt to break away.
Daylen, meanwhile, came out of the bathroom and looked around the bedroom with a calm, confident air. But as he looked around the empty room, his expression faltered, his brow furrowing in disappointment. He became aware that Lucia had left him again.
Daylen started to choose a suit from the wardrobe with a cautious deliberateness, his fingers working with a precision that belied his mounting discomfort.
The silence was broken by a knock at the door as he was resetting his watch. His personal helper, John, quietly coughed and came in.
"Mr. Patrick, it appears that Lucia has left the mansion," John said in a quiet, level voice.
"We assume she's back at her house now."
Daylen's eyes glowed with resolve, but his countenance stayed neutral. He said,
"Get the car ready," in a confident yet strong manner.
He firmly believed that he could win her back and that Lucia would eventually see that she belonged with him. And he was prepared to go to any lengths in order to make that happen.
************************
Pulsating with tiredness, Lucia rushed through the front door. Though she had anticipated a shorter run home, the desperation that propelled her had made her legs feel like lead. She leaned against the door and banged it shut behind her, her eyes darting over the space as though looking for a way out.
The sound of the creaking floors reverberated through the quiet as she strode into her bedroom with urgency. She threw open the closet door, exposing an assortment of garments and footwear that appeared to be mocking her for their disarray.
With a frenzy, Lucia started packing her luggage, cramming clothes and supplies inside without any thought to organise or order.
Her thoughts were filled with the assurance that Daylen would arrive at her house shortly, as his wealth and connections would make it easy for him to find her.
Her hands trembled with apprehension as she zipped up the luggage, a shudder running down her spine.
She was about to go when a voice with a distinct and inquisitive tone rang out outside her door.
"Lucia, what are you doing?"
Her sister Joanna always had a nose in other people's affairs and loved drama and rumors. Knowing that her sister's coming would only make things worse, Lucia's heart fell.
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